The Tycoon's Captured Heart (9 page)

But then memories of that one night with him, and then the way he’d kissed her after the gala…

No, the man wasn’t a robot.  He was flesh and blood and he was here because he cared.  A man couldn’t kiss her like that, he couldn’t make love to her as he had without some sort of feelings for her. 

Maybe she was doing something wrong.  She wasn’t wearing anything clingy.  Nor did she have the sexy underwear on or the plunging neckline with the piece of jewelry to draw his eye.  But she had boobs!  Why wasn’t he just looking at her boobs?  Other men did!  She’d caught them!  She’d been offended but ignored them.  What did she have to do to get Grayson to look at them?! 

With a sigh, she stood up and dusted off her clothes and her sketchpad, trying to clear the air so that she could focus on this room and her work.  Enough silliness.  She’d have to come up with a new game plan because this one obviously wasn’t working very well. 

For the rest of the afternoon, she worked by herself, not brave enough to go back and try to entice a man who didn’t seem to want to be enticed. 

She worked hard, figuring out creative, interesting ways to use the various spaces in the old castle, thinking of Sierra’s favorite colors, she sketched several ideas, trying to come up with options.  Sierra and Harrison could then decide what they wanted the final rooms to look like and she’d hire the contractors to get the work accomplished. 

Moving from room to room, she continued to work, unaware of the afternoon sunlight fading away until Grayson walked in and took her sketchpad away.  “Time for dinner,” he announced with a firm voice.

Scarlett’s mouth dropped open, more than ready to protest his obnoxiousness.  He worked long hours, why would he try and stop her from doing the same?  She was about to argue, but the look in his eyes told her that he wasn’t going to allow it.  “Come on,” he said and grabbed her hand, pulling her towards the old kitchen.  There were slightly more modern conveniences in this room, but some of the appliances would need to be updated and a plumber was already working to replace some of the older pipes.  An electrician had already finished the work of installing additional and updated electrical outlets so that the modern appliances could be brought in.  Thankfully, it was an extremely large space and it wouldn’t need to be expanded. 

When she saw all the food on the counters and simmering on the stove, she was startled.  “Where did all of this come from?”  She’d been prepared to have just a bowl of cereal for dinner.  And breakfast, actually.  She loved creating exciting places in which to eat.  Creating exciting things to eat in those rooms wasn’t as fun.  She’d never really gotten into the whole cooking thing. 

There was an opened bottle of wine with delicate, crystal glasses and a veritable feast of tangy pasta, pungent garlic bread and a delicious looking salad. 

“Did you make all of this?” she asked, stunned by all the food.

Grayson laughed.  “No way.  I had someone bring it in,” he told her and poured two glasses of rich, red wine.  “Here,” he handed one of the glasses to her.  “Now sit down and tell me what you’ve dreamed up to make this sad pile of stones livable.”

Scarlett laughed at his description and took a seat while he piled an enormous serving of the pasta onto her plate.  She’d never be able to eat all of that, but she thought he was cute as he filled up the rest of the plate with salad and added two slices of garlic bread.  Amazingly, that was only half of what he served himself, but since he was twice her size, she supposed that made sense. 

“I have just started sketching out some ideas. I don’t know what Sierra and Harrison want at this point but I thought about some really good ideas for making the rooms a bit more warm and cozy.” She stabbed several pieces of lettuce and looked across the table at him. “What have you been working on?”

Grayson took a long swallow of the excellent red wine before answering. He wasn’t exactly sure what to say because, in reality, he hadn’t accomplished anything today. All his mind could focus on was the way her silk blouse moved against those perfect, beautiful breasts or those long silky legs. Every time he tried to focus on work, an image of her and those yellow slacks reared up in his mind, distracting him once again.

“I reviewed some contracts,” he replied grimly.

Scarlett cringed.  “That doesn’t seem very exciting.” 

“It is very exciting,” he replied, when he actually did something with the contracts, he silently added.  “I prefer looking at contracts and reviewing ways to make money versus drawing something.  No one would be able to figure out what I’ve drawn.”

She laughed.  “Anything that has a profit and loss spreadsheet interests you.” 

They discussed the various repairs that needed to happen on the castle before she could start her work. As she spoke, she realized that there weren’t as many problems with the structure of the castle as she’d originally thought. “The architect thinks that he can be finished in only a couple more days.”

“That soon?” Grayson asked. “I thought there were some pretty major issues with the external structure.”

Scarlett shrugged. “I thought so as well. But when the architect got in here, he discovered that most of the work wasn’t needed. All of the areas that Harrison thought were breaking down were actually fine. There are several cracks in the stones, but the architect explained that the weight of the stone blocks actually supported each other, making it a relatively solid structure.”  She shrugged and took another sip of wine.  “It won’t stand up to a major earthquake, but it will protect the occupants during many more winters to come.  According to the man I hired.  I’ll check with Harrison again just to make sure he didn’t want additional work done, but overall the castle is still pretty solid even after all these centuries.”

Grayson finished off his meal and leaned back in the chair, filling up both of their wineglasses once more. He noticed that she had only finished off a fraction of the food that he’d served her and waited until she was finished. “So how long will it take you to finish all the work that you want to do in here?”

Scarlett looked around, her eyes glancing up at the ceiling and the walls. “Well, this kitchen needs some pretty major renovations which should take about four weeks. But that depends on how soon the cabinets and other appliances can come in that I ordered.” She lifted her glass and leaned back into the chair, thinking about all the things that she wanted to do for Sierra and Harrison’s beautiful castle.

“I really love this place. There’s just something about the old stones and the interesting rooms that make me want to just curl up by the fireplace and read a good book.”

Grayson thought of more interesting things that he’d like to do in front of a fireplace, although reading a book with this woman curled up next to him would be pretty nice. “Why don’t you buy it?”

Scarlett laughed. “There is no way that I could afford this place. Besides,” and she looked around once more, “I can’t imagine Sierra and Harrison letting this go.”

Grayson grunted and Scarlett’s eyes fell onto his handsome features.  “What does that sound mean?” she laughed.

He shrugged and set his wine glass down so that he could pick up the plates.  Carrying them over to the sink, he started rinsing them off.  “You should use more red,” he told her. 

Scarlett’s eyes were confused.  “Sierra doesn’t strike me as the kind of person who would like red décor.”

He turned away from her when he noticed she was bending over to brush the crumbs from the table and he could see that shadow between her breasts.  That enticing shadow.  “When I spoke to her, she mentioned that her favorite color was red lately.  Who am I to contradict a woman?” he said and walked back to the table where Scarlett was wrapping up the rest of the food.  “Just go with red, like the lady asked.”

She didn’t respond, but thought about asking her friend.  There wasn’t a single room in any of Sierra’s houses that had red décor so Grayson’s comment just didn’t make any sense.  “We’ll see.  I’m off to bed,” she told him, looking at the muscles underneath the material of his shirt.  She longed to run her fingers over his back and wondered what he would do if she tried it. 

She shivered, thinking of all the ways she’d like to entice him but…

“You sleep in the nude, right?” she asked.

Grayson spun around, a soapy dish in his hand that crashed to the tile floor with her question.  “What the hell, Scarlett?” he demanded angrily. 

She moved over to the closet and grabbed a broom and dustpan.  While she swept up the broken dish and then looked up at him, it took all of her effort to hold back the secret smile that wanted to spring to life on her lips at his reaction.  “It was just a question.”  She moved slightly closer to him.  “What’s wrong with the question?” her voice turned softer.  “Do you?”

Grayson pulled back, his black eyebrows moving down to her blue eyes.  “None of your business, Scarlett.”  But damn, he wanted it to be her business.  “What made you ask that kind of a question?”

He pointed towards the garbage can, silently telling her to take care of the sharp pieces. 

She moved over and dumped the broken plate into the can, then turned around to face him.  “I’m going to try it.”

Grayson closed his eyes, praying that she wasn’t talking about sleeping in the nude.  Please God, don’t let her say that she was sleeping without pajamas.  He wasn’t sure he could take that kind of an image in his mind right now.  “Try what?”  But he knew!  Damn, he knew what she was going to say and everything inside of him clenched as he waited for her answer.  His hands gripped the edge of the counter and his jaw clenched. 

“I’m going to try sleeping nude.  There must be something to it.  I mean, you do it, other people do it.  There must be something quite liberating about sleeping without any other clothing between one’s skin and the sheets.  Right?” she asked him, watching him carefully. 

Grayson shook his head and wiped his hands on the dishtowel.  “You’re not sleeping nude, Scarlett,” he snapped out angrily.  “You’ll catch a cold.”

That sounded like the most ridiculous reason for her not to try it.  “But you never catch a cold.  In fact, you’re almost never sick.  Maybe that’s why you sleep in the nude.  It keeps you from getting sick.”

“That’s specious reasoning and you know it.  Just wear a damn nightgown.”  Preferably flannel.  One that buttoned up to her neck, he thought.  And covered everything between, right down to her pretty toes. 

The image of Scarlett in a flannel nightgown popped into his mind and he almost groaned out loud.  Not even flannel could make her look unenticing. 

“I’m going to put it to the test,” and with that, she spun around on her heel and walked out of the kitchen.

Grayson watched, noticing her adorable bottom as it moved against the fabric of her capris.  All he wanted to do was lift her up, toss her over his shoulder and make love to her.  He muttered several curses under his breath as he accepted that he would get absolutely no sleep tonight.  He’d be spending the evening thinking of her moving around under her sheets without a stitch of clothing on.  And after their one night together, he knew exactly what she looked like without all those clothes on!

It was going to be an extremely long night.

Scarlett was so angry!  She hadn’t slept at all last night!  She’d been waiting for Grayson to come into her room and discover that she really was naked and he would be so overcome with desire that he would make love to her again.  But he’d stayed away all night!  It was barely even six o’clock this morning and she was tired, grumpy, angry and frustrated.  Why wasn’t he picking up on her signals? 

She’d seen the look in his eyes when she’d said she was going to sleep in the nude.  He wanted her!  He wasn’t immune!  He wanted her and he was pulling back for some ridiculous reason! 

“Slam that cup down one more time and I’m going to spank that bottom of yours,” Grayson grumbled as he walked into the kitchen. 

He was dressed similarly to her in a pair of well-worn jeans and a soft-looking sweater.  But on him, the jeans looked amazing!  His slim hips made those jeans almost edible! 

Or maybe that was just her lust-induced haze she was trying to think through.  She had no idea but she glared at him as he walked into the kitchen. 

“Coffee?” she asked, although it sounded more like a growl than an offer.

“Yes.”

He leaned against the kitchen wall, not allowing himself to get close to her.  She looked all warm and mussed from sleep and he clenched his fists tightly, refusing to mess up again and grab her into his arms. 

He watched as she spooned more coffee grounds into the coffee machine and then slapped the container closed.  She was irritated about something, he realized.  What that could possibly be, he had no idea.  But he had to admit that she looked incredibly hot when she was spitting angry like this. 

Needing to break the silence and figure out some way to ease the tension, she looked up at him, then back down at the coffee, trying to come up with a safe subject to discuss.  “What’s on your schedule today?” she asked as they both stared at the coffee coming down and slowly, painfully slowly, filling up the carafe. 

He shrugged.  “More of the same.”

She spun around, her blue eyes on fire.  For some reason, his explanation of what he would be facing today just irritated her beyond her ability to stop her snappishness.  “What in the world could that possibly mean?  You buy up companies that make absolutely no sense to anyone except in your mind and expect the rest of the world to know what you do, how the pieces of your enormous empire fit together.  Why would you even say something like that?  It sounds terse and rude.  And of all the people in the world, I am the last person that you have the right to say something rude to.  So just spell it out!  Give me more details than the annoying ‘more of the same’ because, I hate to break it to you, big guy, but you are the only one that can understand how your business actually makes such an astounding profit!”

She realized that she’d ended up screaming at him, her hands flailing out wildly but she didn’t care.  She was so tired from lack of sleep and so angry that he hadn’t come to her bed last night.  She wanted to run over to him and slap his face, pound her fists against his stomach and that impossibly muscular chest and hurt him just as she was hurting now. 

Grayson stared at her, not sure what was going on.  During their entire relationship, never had Scarlett ever raised her voice to him.  She was the calm one.  She was the member of their group that was always the voice of reason.  When the five guys would be throwing punches and allowing their emotions to rule, Scarlett was the tiny little woman who would step into the fray with a simple “stop” and all five men would freeze, looking at her and then bowing their heads in shame because they’d once again lost their temper. 

He moved across the kitchen, aware that she was trembling for some reason.  “Are you okay?” he asked gently, lifting his hand up to cradle her cheek.

Scarlett felt his rough hands and leaned into his caress.  It wasn’t much, but it was something and she needed this touch.  She needed anything that Grayson was willing to give her.  Damn the man!  Why wasn’t he interested in her?  Why couldn’t he love her as much as she loved him?! 

“I’m fine,” she finally said, sniffing pathetically as she pulled away from him.  “Coffee is ready,” she told him, turning her back on him and lifting the now-filled carafe off of the burner.  She poured two cups and cringed when she took the first sip.  This was his French roast and she preferred the smoother flavors of the Italian style coffees. 

“This is great,” he said and kissed her forehead.  “Thank you.”

She sighed and pushed away from the cabinet.  She’d pour this brew down the sink once he was finished with his coffee.  “I’m going to start working.”

He grabbed her hand and pulled her back.  “No.  You need breakfast.  You didn’t eat enough for dinner last night.”

Scarlett laughed.  “Not enough?  I ate more than twice what I should have,” she told him with a chuckle. 

“Then you should eat more all the time.  You’re too skinny.”  He turned and pulled out a pan, grabbing some eggs from the fridge. 

His words once again sparked her temper and she considered throwing her coffee cup at his muscular back.  She held onto it with both hands, refusing to resort to violence.  “I do not need to gain any weight,” she argued emphatically.

“You’re too skinny,” he said again and cracked some eggs into a mixing bowl, adding in a bit of milk and spices. 

She stiffened as he whipped the eggs together.  “I didn’t hear any complaints the other night.”

She watched as Grayson stiffened, his body frozen in place for all of five seconds before he started moving again.  “Well, that was an extraordinary circumstance.”

Extraordinary circumstance?  Was he kidding?  Was he just teasing her? 

He poured the whipped eggs into a frying pan and added a few other ingredients.  Scarlett stood behind him and wondered what circumstances would warrant a replay in his mind.  But she didn’t have the guts to ask the question. 

“I’m going to work,” she told him and spun around on her heel, walking out of the kitchen. She was too angry, furious actually, to listen to the man who didn’t want her.  She’d tried her best yesterday.

Okay, well, she’d tried her best for about a half hour before her work took over her mind.  She had to admit to herself that she’d lost focus.  If she was going to do this, she needed to put her whole heart and soul into it. 

She shouldn’t have relented when she’d gotten nervous, she thought.  She should have persisted despite her fear of rejection.  Maybe if she had, both of them would be sleeping in this morning instead of snapping at each other because of frustration and exhaustion.  And maybe she would be drinking a pleasant cup of coffee instead of this harsh sludge that he loved so much. 

Ugh, she poured her coffee down the bathroom sink, unable to drink it any longer.  It was too strong and tasted burnt.  She preferred the smoother tastes but she’d wanted to make Grayson happy.  More fool her!

She picked up her sketch book and continued working.  But her mind was only partly on her work today.  She kept an eye out for where he went in the house.  Yesterday, she’d gone out of her way to put herself in his path.  Today, she just couldn’t work up the nerve to do the same things.  He hadn’t approached her door last night on some flimsy excuse to see if she’d truly been sleeping in the nude, even though her mind had come up with several almost-legitimate reasons why he could have knocked on her door.  He wasn’t totally uncreative, she knew.  He could have dreamed up some sort of excuse, couldn’t he? 

By midmorning, she was sick of being cooped up indoors and trying to figure out what was going through the obnoxious man’s mind.  She tossed her sketchpad down onto a side table and stretched before walking across the foyer. 

“Where are you going?” he demanded when she walked by the dining room doorway where he’d spread out all of his papers as well as putting up several large monitors.  Apparently, the small library upstairs just wasn’t big enough to contain the man’s genius. 

She looked up into his brown eyes, wishing she had the courage to simply stand up on her tiptoes and brush her lips over his rough cheek.  She realized with surprise that he hadn’t taken the time to shave this morning.  She couldn’t remember the last time Grayson hadn’t been completely clean-shaven and immaculately dressed. 

She sighed and rubbed her eyes, trying to get the image of his chest hair out of her mind.  Again.  “I’m going for a run.  I’m tired of being inside.”

Grayson watched her, impressed with the way she moved and more than a little turned on.  But he also didn’t want her going out into the countryside alone.  He remembered Harrison’s comments about the home invasions in the area. 

“I’ll come with you,” he said and put down his coffee cup.  He’d changed from the strong, French roast that he preferred to Scarlett’s weaker Italian brew and he hated the stuff.  And what was worse, she hadn’t even bothered with another cup. 

He took the stairs two at a time and slammed into his room, pulling on a pair of shorts and a shirt with his running shoes.  When he stepped out, she was already skipping down the stairs, ready for a long run.

Oh no, little lady he thought as his eyes followed her cute butt in the leggings and wicking shirt.  “Scarlett, wait up,” he called out to her. 

Scarlett looked up the stairs and cringed, shaking her head as she realized what he was intending.  “No way, Grayson!  I’m not running with you!  Your legs are much longer than mine.  I can’t keep up with you when we go for a run together.”

He chuckled at her outraged expression but wasn’t relenting.  “Don’t be a wimp,” he told her and nudged her out the door.  Her idea of a run was a good one.  They hadn’t had much exercise in the past couple of days and the fresh air would do both of them some good. 

Besides, he had to get her out of the house because there was absolutely no way he could watch her in the house in her running spandex pants and her tight shirt.  There were no secrets when she was wearing that outfit.  Everything was tight against her sexy, slender figure and he was practically panting just standing in front of her.  She looked hot!  Any man who peered out of his window when she jogged by would want her and he was determined to protect her if she wanted to go for a run.

“Grayson!” she snapped, pulling back.  “You’re not coming with me!  That’s final!” she told him and started stretching her legs, trying to loosen up her muscles. 

“Can’t keep up?  Are you really that much of a girl?”

That did it!  “Oh, you want to race?  Are you challenging me?”  She couldn’t believe she was actually about to accept his challenge.  His legs were at least a foot longer than hers plus he was much more muscular.  Maybe he didn’t have the same kind of cardiovascular abilities as she did, but did she really want to put it to the test? 

Yes!  Some silly little impulse wanted to test her strength against his.  It might be just that he was looking at her with that dare in his eyes or maybe she really wanted to see how good she was.  Either way, the test was on! 

She glared up at him and slipped her earplugs in, turning up the volume on her cell phone so that her music would blast out any comments he might make.

She took off running, not even bothering to stretch out her muscles, too angry with him for taunting her.  She moved off, painfully aware of him right behind her.  When he came up beside her, she picked up her pace, determined to be ahead of him.  She’d run with him several times in the past.  The last time, she’d sworn that she’d never do it again.  But here she was, trying to beat the man one more time.  Maybe someday she’d learn, but that day wasn’t today. 

He was right beside her and every few minutes, he would pick up the pace.  She tried to keep her breathing even, remembering all of the tricks of running to help her keep up with him.  She swung her arms out to the side, no crossing in front of her body, in and out breathing, leaning over on the hills, relaxing on the downward sides…She was dying!  His pace was killing her but she wouldn’t give in.  She kept on running, speeding up whenever he picked up his pace.  She was a glutton for punishment, she thought as they jogged through the countryside. 

She kept up though! 

Unfortunately, after five miles, she felt like she was going to pass out.  Meanwhile, Grayson hadn’t even broken a sweat. 

When he started up yet another hill, she stopped, holding out her hands before falling forward, gasping for breath and hoping she didn’t pass out or throw up from the exertion.  “I can’t!” she gasped, bending over and trying to catch her breath.

Grayson bent lower, watching the woman and admiring her bottom in the tight fitting pants.  He actually had to look away because his body went into instant attention, more than ready to take her right here on the craggy rocks. 

When he thought he had himself under control again, he looked back at her.  “What happened to you, Scarlett?  The last time we went for a run together, you were able to make it seven or eight miles before begging for mercy.”

She turned her head up to look at him.  She meant to glare, but it just took too much energy so she satisfied herself with a simple look.  In her mind, it was a glare though.  “The last time we went for a run, I’d had a full night’s sleep, a good cup of coffee and we were running along the streets of Manhattan, not the hills of Scotland, up and over rocks and other things.  So don’t you dare tell me that I’m out of shape!”